Ain’t Worried lyrics

by

Gudda Gudda


[Verse 1: Euro]
I'm that Dominican n*gga, your b*tch be talkin' 'bout
I'm in a different city, you can f*ck her now
I got a whole collection of my ho collection
Y-M-C-M-B no autocorrection
I said, "f*ck all y'all n*ggas, except my n*ggas"
Security don't check my n*ggas, all y'all n*ggas gon' respect my n*ggas
Either that or get a whack or get a bat to the back of the neck my n*gga
Yeah that shorty with y'all with y'all, cause she never met a big dog 'til she met my n*ggas
Got a big dream, from a small town
Got a small circle, you never get around
Old hoes thinkin' I'mma put 'em on now
Room full of bad b*tches, I'mma put 'em all down
Always been broke, who's rich now?
I ain't never had change, why switch now?
Money talks n*gga, I ain't never heard sh*t
Til y'all heard me spit, now everything loud
Got a mojo, with a flow-flow
Got a whole load, don't know if it's a promo
Never cuff hoes, hell no that's a no-no
Coolin' in the cut with a bud sipping romo
No love for the po-po's
Gotta pour more for my n*ggas in the hell hole
Never tell though, I'mma need a little more dope for my uncle
Cause I sell flows and he sell dope, n*gga work
[Break: Mack Maine]
Yeah, Euro
What up this Mack the fortune teller
The n*gga that put y'all on Miley Cyrus
Negrodamus my n*gga
Predicting futures
You need some lottery numbers holla at me n*gga I got you

[Verse 2: Jae Millz]
Put a n*gga in that hearse, long ass K no nina
Word to Martin I'm cold with this homie buck shots
Like Pam make a n*gga say, "Damn Gina"
Millzy! Money don't mean nothing, my youngin'
I'll kill you for some sneakers
This Dedication 5, no vacations slime
We in the endzone and they in bleachers
Cheerleaders, we ain't worried 'bout nothin', nothin'
n*gga act dumb, push the button, f*ck 'em
Get 'em out of here like the 6th foul in the NBA
Little n*gga no discussion
Boy I'll close ya case, like judge Millz Lane
All y'all wack ass n*ggas stay out of Millz lane
Big guns that go over the shoulder dog
My team strapped, no overalls
So please don't make me do it, got soldiers and shooters
These bullets will swallow like shots of Kahlua
When we light up the weed then we fly like a rumor
Then hop on the plane and fly over you losers
Put racks on your head now you sleep in the sewer
I'm not from this era that beef on computers
Look boy if it's war, then all we comin' after you
Special I'm smashin ya, somethin' like Gallagher
Shots in your challenger, shots in your passenger
Hittin' your girl then I'm passing her
Jae Millz ain't worried 'bout nothin'
Young Money ain't worried 'bout nothin'
D5!
[Outro: Jae Millz]
We ain't worried 'bout nothin' (Young Money)
n*gga we ain't worried 'bout nothin' (Jae Millz)
n*gga we ain't worried 'bout nothin' (not a thing)
n*gga we ain't worried 'bout nothin' (D5)
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